


Potholes on Dark Roads

by WhoopsOK



Series: Damp [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Play, Crying Dean Winchester, Diapers, Dom Sam Winchester, Multi, Piss Play, Semi-Public Sex, Squick, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-02 00:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoopsOK/pseuds/WhoopsOK
Summary: "Sam can see Dean doesn’t really realize what he’s in for until he notices the waterproof liner in the back seat and Sam hands him a water bottle."(Dean’s temper lands him in the backseat in a diaper.)





	Potholes on Dark Roads

**Author's Note:**

> Um. Baby the Impala is misused in this, but it doesn’t mind.

They didn’t get to take time off often, but especially as of the newer developments in their relationship, Sam takes dry spells very seriously.

When Donna calls him from Jody’s telephone one Thursday to tell him he better “ _get his buns over here, tell Dean I’ll make pie_ ” he laughs and relents easily. It’ll be a two day drive and, unless something goes hinky between here and there, they could feasibly even stay the weekend. Castiel is more than amicable about it, he’s probably hoping to see Claire and it’s not lost even on him that Donna finds his quirks charming. Unsurprisingly, it’s Dean who’s making a stink about it.

Sam isn’t quite sure what has triggered Dean’s bad mood, but is beginning to understand it doesn’t always need an external cause. Sometimes Dean just gets wound tight and, for the most part, pounding something into the ground on a case has been his catharsis. It works, sometimes, but Sam thinks he would like Dean to be in a bit calmer of a headspace when they get to Jody’s than he would be if they arrived fresh out of a gunfight.

That means Sam’s got to put him in a calmer headspace.

Dean means to fight him, he really does, but they all know he tends to crumble around Sam when he’s fussy and wants to feel better (even if he can never say so in as many words).

They’re all packed and ready to go, but Dean has yet to stop griping and Sam has categorized his thoughts enough to have a plan. Which means when he comes back from getting the impala ready, he’s at the limit of what he will accept of Dean’s tantrum.

Castiel seems to simultaneously startle and sag with relief when Sam shoves Dean bodily against the nearest wall.

“That’s enough,” Sam says lowly, “We’re going, we both know we are. _No_ ,” He kicks Dean’s leg out when he tries to leverage him off, pressing him harder against the wall. “I said _that’s enough._ ”

Dean’s eyes are in that cagey place where he is fighting with himself, caught between wanting to figure out what Sam wants and give it to him, and wanting to shove Sam off and snarl just on principle. He opens his mouth again, but Sam speaks before he gets the chance to say something he’d regret. Small mercies.

“If you’re going to behave like a child, I’ll treat you like one,” he warns and it’s the right thing. Dean’s face goes flush, mouth clicking shut even as his eyes go wide. “As a matter of fact, too late,” Sam continues, ignoring the way Dean’s breathing picks up, “you’re already acting like a child. Let’s get all this fussiness out before we have company, ok?”

“Sammy,” Dean says haltingly, but doesn’t follow up with anything.

“Ah-ah,” Sam says anyway and presses his thumb to Dean’s pulse point on instinct, feeling it speed up when he does. “Drop your pants. Undies, too.”

Dean bites his lip, looking away as he does as he’s told. He expects a spanking, perhaps. Sam is not in the mood to hurt him, though, doesn’t think Dean really wants to be hurt right now.

“Cas,” Sam says, reaching out without looking away from Dean’s face. He smiles when Castiel takes his hand and molds against his side immediately. He turns the smile down towards him, kissing his nose. “Would you like to pick out a diaper for your brother?”

Dean’s gaze immediately snaps back to his and Castiel’s eyes go wide and wanting. “ _Sam_ ,” he breathes, nodding, whining a little when Sam kisses him properly on the mouth.

“Just two, please, baby,” he says and Castiel looks at Dean longingly before starting off down the hall. Sam chuckles, stepping forward to kiss Dean’s heated cheek. “You can look embarrassed all you want, you’re getting hard,” he whispers.

Dean flinches towards him and Sam keeps his hips carefully out of range. “ _Sammy._ ”

When Castiel comes back with the diapers, the flush doesn’t leave Dean’s cheeks, but a defiant little pout creeps over his face as Sam straps him in one. Sam tugs his pants up and buckles his belt as well, Dean’s hands raised peacefully out of the way even when Sam squeezes his ass. The soft crinkling sound makes Dean’s face flash from pink to red, but he otherwise remains silent.

Sam can see Dean doesn’t really realize what he’s in for until he notices the waterproof liner in the back seat and Sam hands him a water bottle.

“Finish it,” he says and watches Dean’s throat bobbing with a low simmer of want he doesn’t bother to hide. Dean holds eye contact as he downs the bottle, eyes only flickering away when Castiel shifts, half hard, on the seat beside Sam.

Dean belches when he finishes. “Meanies.”

Driving the impala has always been a control issue for Dean, so being forced into the backseat makes him squirmy and talkative, but as it’s not active complaining, Sam doesn’t try to stop him. He knows Dean is just trying to distract himself from the fact that he’s sitting in a diaper that Sam has no intention of taking off dry. The constant pink on his face is a good look and the way Castiel’s gaze has not cooled off in the slightest has him gripping the steering wheel in an attempt to control himself.

Sam is careful to keep his attention on the road, half listening to Dean explain the finer highlights of glam rock to Castiel when his eyes catch on a diner he recognizes as the last one before the hit a long stretch of nothing. He figures it’s about time for dinner anyway and just manages to keep the smirk off his lips.

When he pulls up to the gas pump, Dean doesn’t comment, but Sam is gratified to watch the disbelief pop into Dean’s eyes when he pulls up to park as far away from the diner as he can get.

“ _Sam_ ,” Dean hisses, but Sam just looks confused.

“What? We have another four hours,” he says like it’s obvious, “You wanna drive through no-man’s land on an empty stomach?” He gets out of the car to find Castiel already smirking at him over the hood.

Dean is wigged the fuck out.

It’s obvious to Sam as they’re crossing the parking lot that he’s consciously trying to walk like he’s not wearing a diaper. Dean elbows Castiel when he catches him not too subtly trying to find the lines of it under his jeans, so Sam does his level best not to get caught doing the same. He doubts anyone who hadn’t studied Dean’s ass at length would noticed the slight padding of it, not in the fading light, not from a distance, anyway. But the way Dean keeps himself timidly positioned behind Sam when they’re waiting to be seated is more than a little amusing. The fact that Castiel and Sam know what wearing diapers does to Dean, that they _know he’s wearing one right now_ has Sam tensing his legs to keep from pitching a tent right there and then.

At the table, Dean shifts restlessly and tries to keep his eyes on his burger and not the way Castiel and Sam are trying to subtly undress him with their eyes. “Would you two fuck off?” he mutters brightly, with an entirely fake smile, when he runs out of food to focus on.

Sam laughs, pushing to his feet. “Sure,” he says, tossing Dean the keys. “Get in the car. We’re gonna hit the head first.” He says and watches the blood drain out of Dean’s face.

Dean gapes at him wordlessly for a moment. Eventually, he hisses “ _That’s not fair!_ ” under his breath.

“I didn’t ask you,” Sam responds neutrally, Castiel standing to join him. “Go wait in the car.” 

When Dean doesn’t move immediately, Sam’s face flashes towards… it isn’t annoyance, but Dean doesn’t know what to call it exactly. It’s just his challenge face, his sadist-at-will face; it shows a willingness to meet Dean wherever his attitude takes him and _shove_ him back into his place. Dean flashes hot and cold when he sees it.

Sam steps forward, speaking low enough that only Dean and Castiel can hear, but just loud enough to set Dean’s nerves on edge. “ _Or_ I’m going to take you in that bathroom and spank you until you can’t sit down flat,” he continues at Dean’s incredulous look, “Think about it, Dee. Who’s going to come when they hear smacking in a restroom? Out here? In the middle of nowhere?” He whispers a fraction softer, “But you’re gonna have to waddle back out here, all flushed and teary eyed and everyone in this room is going to know exactly what to think of you.”

…Dean gets in the car.

They come back to the car with to-go cups of soda and Sam can hear Dean’s breathing pick up when he forces one into his hand.

“Sammy…” he whines after a few miles, quietly, like he doesn’t even mean to. He’s been fidgeting almost constantly since sundown.

“Yeah, Dee?” Sam says, at once teasing and gentle. Castiel looks like he might set Dean on fire with just his gaze in the rearview. A vicious smile stretches over Sam’s face when Castiel, shamelessly, realizes he doesn’t have to watch the road and turns to face Dean. Sam gets to see the mortification on Dean’s face briefly in the rearview.

“I can’t…” Dean says and his voice kicks up at the end, a cramp hitting low in his heavy stomach. He’s got his hands fisted in the seat protector and he lifts himself up, sits down again, pinches his legs together, panting all the while. “Sammy, I can’t…”

“Can’t what, Dean?” Sam says sweetly. “Oh, you mean hold it?”

There’s sweat rolling down Dean’s brow and he shuts his eyes against the intensity of Castiel’s gaze, against Sam’s smirk. “Please,” he gasps. He doesn’t know what he’s begging for, what he even wants.

“It’s ok, sweetie pie,” Sam replies, “I didn’t expect a _baby_ to make it all the way dry.”

“Fu- _fudge_ ,” Dean swears, curling in on himself. He feels close to tears, he’s about to _bust_.

The fact that Sam is driving slow enough that he sees the pothole coming up is really just a stroke of good luck. He figures it small enough that Dean won’t come up into Big Space to yell at him if he hits it, but big enough that surely his overfilled bladder won’t be able to take the jostling. He takes the risk.

It pays off.

Dean gasps before his breath comes out exclusively as a combination of whines and moans. He’s babbling and begging, “ _no, no, no_ ”, but it’s too late. Sam can tell – by the way Dean’s mouth falls open, almost as if in orgasm, his body frozen in a hard line of unmoving tension – that Dean has lost control.

“Are you pissing in the car, Dee?” Sam asks lowly and Castiel moans with Dean.

“ _Sammyyy_ ,” he whines as pee gushes from his body, the wet warmth quickly filling up the diaper, settling under Dean’s ass, against his balls. “ _Oh, oh…_ ” he’s started crying, because he’s horrified, he’s peeing in his _car,_ but it feels so good to empty himself after all this time he thinks he might just come from it. He spreads his legs and sobs and pisses himself doing fifty-five down a dark road, the diaper squelching under his weight. He shifts to get that feeling again, tossing his head back. “ _Fuck…_ ”

“Sammy…” Castiel begs, hand latching onto Sam’s thigh. Sam doesn’t even have to look over to know Castiel has gone hard as diamonds.

“Yeah,” Sam rasps, because he won’t be able to focus enough to drive safely with Dean writhing and moaning like that. Agonized and aroused is a good look on Dean and Sam wants to get a good look at it. He scouts around briefly, before pulling off the road, into a long twisting driveway in the otherwise endless tree line. The house is over a mile up, but he cuts the headlights anyway before he steps out into the moonlight, Castiel jumping out right after.

Dean’s eyes are bugged and his mouth is still hanging slack when Sam pulls him from the backseat.  “Sammy…”

“Gotta take a leak,” Sam explains.

Snarky Dean would point out there’s a perfectly good tree behind him, _several_ perfectly good trees, but Dean is feeling too little and too groggy and too _turned on out of his head_ to get smart. He stumbles when his pants are yanked open and pulled down and Sam shoves him against the side of the car.

Dean whines when Sam’s dick presses against the base of his spine, before piss slowly starts running down his ass, filling the back of his diaper. He doesn’t realize at first, lost to pleasure, that it has started leaking down his pant leg. “W-wait, it’s—” he moans low in his throat when Sam pushes him forward until his face is practically resting on top of the car.

“Cas, you gotta go?”

“Yeah,” Castiel blurts and surges forward like he’d been waiting. When Sam wipes his dick on Dean’s shirt and slides out of the way, Castiel presses the whole line of his body against Dean’s backside. When he gets his dick out, he pulls Dean’s diaper to the side and sticks his dick _up_ into it before he lets go, groaning right into Dean’s ear.

Dean whimpers, squirming as a good amount of Castiel’s piss dribbles directly out of the diaper. “ _Cassie_ …”

“Oh, _Dee_ ,” Castiel whispers, twisting Dean’s arms behind his back and leaning on them as his piss streaks hot down Dean’s legs. “I think you’re my favorite toilet.”

“ _Fuck!_ ” Dean cries and struggles involuntarily. He’s grinding his hips against the side of the car, Castiel grinding into him.

“Dirty little fucks,” Sam chuckles and Dean’s vision whites out when he sees Sam leaning against the hood, stripping his dick, casual as you like. He means to bite his lip, to keep the sound in, but then he’s shouting, head thrown back onto Castiel’s shoulder, carelessly moaning out loud as he goes up on his toes and comes so hard his vision blurs.

Castiel groans and bites down on his shoulder, rutting up into the warm, wet crevice of the diaper for a few more strokes until Dean feels Castiel’s come slide stickily down his balls. Castiel’s weight against his back is the only thing keeping him upright as he gasps for breath, twitching with little aftershocks of pleasure.

He absently hears Sam kicking dirt over his jizz. “You wet, Cas?”

“Uh…” Castiel can’t even pick his head up from Dean’s shoulder, “Uh, I don’t think so— _oh._ ”

Sam walks over and checks, thoroughly, indulgently. “Nah, you’re ok back here. You can sit up front. Dean’s about to fall asleep on us.”

Dean blinks back to himself when Sam kisses his cheek, “Two options: I can take that diaper off now and you can ride in your wet jeans. Or I can change you at the first motel we get to and you can wallow in it. Doesn’t matter to me.”

 Dean thinks and thinks and then puts his head down on Baby, sleepy and in somewhere like subspace. “’s warm,” he mumbles as an answer and Castiel laughing against his neck makes him buzz with pleasure, as does Sam kissing his face again.

“Ok, baby, come on then.”

It’s a bit of an effort to get Dean back into the backseat, shaky as he is, but he’s docile and sweet about it as Sam zips him up and lays him down.

When he wakes up in the motel parking lot with his hand crammed in his diaper, he can’t even muster up the energy to feel embarrassed. He crowds Castiel’s space as they get out of the car, and as they enter the room, and as Sammy gets them into the shower. He almost cries with relief when Sam powders his ass and puts him in a clean diaper as they crawl into bed, all three onto the queen, ignoring the futon entirely.

“I know you’ll probably be big tomorrow, but don’t worry about that,” Sam whispers into his hair, spooned up tight behind Dean. “Let it rest for now, Dee. Everything’s fine.”

Dean hardly ever feels young enough to coo, but he does now, against Castiel’s lips, where he’s cuddled in Dean’s arms, Sam’s hand firm on his thigh. He feels quiet and soft and, frankly, so does Big Dean, still far away and coming back glacially slow. When he wakes up, it’ll be fine. Sammy said so.

So Dean lets it rest for now.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading…“stay-cations” are a good, cheap way to treat yourself this summer! So treat yourself!!
> 
> (Driving through Texas, there’re these long stretches of highway with nothing but forest occasionally broken by spooky, long driveways and cattle ranches. Definitely Would Not Under Any Circumstances pull into one for any shenanigans, but you know, it’s still good for the wank bank. Play safely, dolls!)


End file.
